


cherry lips poppin'

by supremekermit



Series: Summertime [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00line + mark aged down, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M, Summer road trip, california au, hyuck w pretty nails and pretty lips, mark catches feelings, messy makeout sess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremekermit/pseuds/supremekermit
Summary: summer road trips are for messy feelings and even messier kisses. mark can't stop staring at donghyuck's lips.





	cherry lips poppin'

**Author's Note:**

> for reference, they're all graduated hs seniors in this.

The heat must be getting to him.

They’re sitting in Mark’s car, parked in the lot of In-N-Out as they wait for the rest to come back with “lunch”. It’s only been three hours since they’ve embarked on their road trip and so far, the boys have already made a sizable dent in the pile of snacks Mark’s mom shoved into the trunk, despite Mark’s insistence that she was going overboard.

She didn’t.

The two packs of Oreos she’d tossed into the backseat are gone, sacrificed to the depths of Jeno and Jaemin’s stomachs. Renjun had taken to guzzling Capri Sun packs as soon as the trip started, claiming dehydration from the hot weather. Somewhere after the hour mark, he was begging Mark to stop the car for a restroom break at a convenience store, where Donghyuck had demanded Mark to buy him a Slurpee.

The AC is blasting, but Mark can feel the heat forming behind his neck, threatening to climb to his ears. It’s getting to him.

Or maybe, Donghyuck is. Maybe, it’s the way he’s sipping on his slurpee, tongue occasionally peeking out to lick the pink stray droplets. The straw sits at the edge of his mouth, trapped between his teeth as he bites down on it. His face looks serene, eyes fixed on his phone while he scrolls with one hand, the glaze of his manicure shining.

The heat resumes its torturous ascent.

Mark gulps, reaching out to raise the dial of the AC. It must be the heat.

A whine comes from the passenger seat. “Mark, it’s too cold.”

Mark flinches as Donghyuck leans over, rotating the dial back to a lower level. The star illustrations on his nails catch the sunlight and glints.

“It’s not cold, it’s _hot,_ ” Mark argues, letting his hand rise to rub away the warmth behind his neck. “It’s fucking boiling outside.”

Donghyuck rolls his eye. “Yeah, but it’s freezing in here,” he grumbles. He pouts and maybe Mark is a bit too weirdly hyper-focused right now, but his eyes can’t move from the way Donghyuck’s lips squeeze together, pink and full and _shiny._ He looks at them, wondering how they’d feel pressed against his own.

It’s not until Donghyuck clears his throat that Mark realizes he’s been staring. For a little too long.

“Um, Mark? Are you okay?”

He’s not okay. Mark jerks out his trance, blinking rapidly as he trains his eye on the steering wheel. Fuck. It’s not even like it’s the first time he’s been spacing off to Donghyuck’s face. He doesn’t what’s changed, but somehow, over the course of senior year, he finds his eyes straying to Donghyuck again and again, watching the way he chews on his lips between stacks of prep books or the way his eyelashes curl over his cheeks as he squints at a textbook.

And now, Donghyuck’s watching him with a look Mark can’t dissect. It sends a stabbing feeling to Mark’s chest, hot and painful. Mark looks out the window.

“When are they coming back,” he mumbles to the window pane.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond to that. Instead, Mark can hear him shuffling in his seat, bending down to grab his bag that’s been thrown to the floor of the car. There’s a zipping sound and then he’s rummaging around in his bag, letting out a little hum when he finds what he’s been looking for.

When Mark finally finds the courage to turn around again, he immediately regrets it.

Donghyuck’s putting on lipgloss.

It’s his senior year thing. He’d shown up on the first day with those shiny, pink lips and Mark couldn’t stop staring. “It’s just some lipgloss,” Donghyuck had said with a pointed smirk. He might as well have said that it’s the gateway to Mark Lee’s neverending existential crisis.

Donghyuck purses his lips into the reflection of the sun visor mirror. Satisfied, he caps the tubes and tosses it back into his bag. He looks to Mark, lips curling into a small smile, almost like he knows something Mark doesn’t.

“Looks good?”

Of course, he looks good. If Mark couldn’t stop staring at Donghyuck’s lips earlier, now he was obsessed because somehow, Donghyuck’s lips have become even poutier with a new layer of gloss.

“Y-Yeah, it’s fine,” Mark chokes out.

Donghyuck hums, content.

“Good to know,” he murmurs. It’s a minute before Mark feels Donghyuck’s hand on his knee, rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. This isn’t new, they’ve always been especially touchy, and the amount of nights Donghyuck has spent sleeping in Mark’s bed or vice versa are a testament to that. Yet, for some reason, the contact feels new, spiking the heat that threatens to bubble up from underneath Mark’s skin. He tenses.

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck’s voice is quiet, the question barely audible over a pop song from Jaemin’s Spotify playlist.

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause.

“Kiss me?”

Fire. That’s what’s rising up to the surface of Mark’s skin, threatening to burn away his entire existence along with all the traces of his year long existential crisis. It burns and burns and burns, and Mark might not be breathing anymore as he gapes at Donghyuck.

“W-what did you say?” he stutters.

Donghyuck’s eyes flash with that look again, the one Mark can’t decipher and then he’s leaning over, hand moving it’s way to the middle of Mark’s thigh as he closes in on the distance separating them.

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

Mark’s at a lost for words, so he gives the only response he can: he presses his lips against Donghyuck.

His lips are just as plush as Mark had expected them to be in the height of his daydreams, full and so, _so soft._ They’re also sticky, Mark realizes as their lips slide together, the pressure of the touch building. Donghyuck’s newly applied layer of gloss smears against the edges of Mark’s mouth, and Mark takes a tentative lick, tasting the artificial sweetness. Donghyuck’s eyes flutter shut as he opens his mouth, inviting Mark to move further. Somewhere in between Mark exhaling a quiet moan into Donghyuck’s mouth and Donghyuck moving to kiss at the corners of Mark’s lips, they gasp for air. Donghyuck’s hands find their way to the back of Mark’s neck, rubbing small circles into his tense muscles while Mark cups his jaw, letting his tongue savour the cherry taste lingering from Donghyuck’s drink.

When they finally break apart, Donghyuck’s lips are red, puffy and swollen. His lip gloss is smeared all over the bottom of his face, and he cringes as he wipes at his chin. Mark’s fingers fly to his own lips, which he realizes is also covered with traces of Donghyuck’s lipgloss. He licks at his upper lip. It’s sweet.

“So,” Mark starts, only to realize his voice is squeaking. He looks down, only to realize Donghyuck’s hand is still resting on his thigh.

“So,” Donghyuck nods.

Mark clears his throat. “What was—“

Donghyuck jumps in his seat, pulling his hand from Mark’s thigh. Mark frowns at the sudden lost of contact. He follows the path of Donghyuck’s wide eyes, only to startle when he sees Jaemin’s smiling face pressed up against his window.

“What the actual fuck,” he hisses.

“Assholes, hurry up and unlock the car,” Renjun shouts, waving the bags of hamburgers and fries in his hands.

Mark lets out a groan, but unlocks the car to let the three boys pile in.

“Line was hella long,” Jeno grumbles, a handful of fries already shoved in his mouth. He reaches for the opened bag in Renjun’s lap, only for the boy to swat his hand away with a scowl.

“You have your own fries.”

“Yeah, loser,” Jaemin says, hand reaching inside the bag to fish out a fry.

Renjun glares. “Choke.”

Mark looks back at Donghyuck. In the midst of the bickering, he’s gone back to scrolling through his phone, one hand holding up his drink as he sips. Mark can still see the shiny patches near his cheeks where the gloss had smeared off.

Holding in a sigh, Mark turns on the engine.

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently i don't understand the concept of priorities but this has been a long time comin so we here now and its a hot mess.  
> in other news, i love markhyuck.  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/WITCHB0YZ) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/supremekermit)


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